


Not a Game

by pallorsomnium



Series: I Wish You Would Write Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Best Girl Boga, Gen, Not Beta Read, Post-Order 66, Suitless Darth Vader, Utapau (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallorsomnium/pseuds/pallorsomnium
Summary: "A strange howl fills the air, and he and the varactyls look up as almost one as a small, black starfighter streaks across the sky, heading for the encampment of troopers just outside the city. Whoever is coming, they’re afterhim."Written in response to this "I wish you would write" prompt on Tumblr: "a fic where obi wan loses his memories after order 66 and runs into vader (mustafar fight never happens)"
Relationships: Boga & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: I Wish You Would Write Prompt Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880977
Comments: 24
Kudos: 242





	Not a Game

There’s something coming. 

‘Bi has no frame of reference for exactly  _ what _ , but he has a bad feeling about it. The varactyls who have taken him into their lounge[1] are agitated, keeping closer to their nesting grounds than usual. Boga refuses to leave his side for even a moment, though she has stayed close ever since he’d washed ashore with her all those months ago, only a scant handful of memories to call his own. 

They had been shot at, the blaster holes in his clothes and the burns scoring Boga’s side clear evidence of that -- and incentive enough for him to stay hidden away with the varactyls. He has avoided contact with anyone, but  _ especially  _ with the troopers in white armor milling around the closest city. Over the months, the troopers’ presence has diminished, though not disappearing entirely, and ‘Bi[2] still hides, something within him, the same  _ something  _ that allows him to connect with Boga and the others, telling him that something terrible has happened out in the galaxy, that he  _ mustn't  _ be found. Someone had wanted him, whomever he’d been, dead, and he must keep up that illusion. 

He has spent months living with the varactyls, living off the land with the knowledge left from his missing past. He  _ tries _ to recall his memories, but is entirely unsuccessful. The feeling of being...hunted had faded as time had passed, but now that feeling is back.

Suddenly, a strange howl fills the air, and he and the varactyls look up as almost one as a small, black starfighter streaks across the sky, heading for the encampment of troopers just outside the city. Whoever is coming, they’re after  _ him _ , he thinks. 

He’s morbidly curious about this newcomer, but an insistent and anxious Boga has him climbing onto her back. They flee, the lounge of varactyls swiftly climbing up and down the rough terrain, farther and farther away from the city. 

They are found anyways. 

A gunship descends onto the mesa where they’d chosen to rest for the night. They hold themselves silent and still, hidden behind the rocky outcrops in hopes of not being detected. ‘Bi spies through a slit between two slabs of rock as a man jumps out of the gunship before it even lands, his black cloak fluttering in his wake. One trooper jumps after him from a more reasonable height, a long blaster rifle in his hands. 

The man in black stalks forward, head turning left and right as he searches. His face is familiar. Somehow, ‘Bi _knows_ him -- no, he _had_ known him, but not this man before him now. _This_ man feels like a jagged, festering wound, like fury and despair and _pain_ all rolled into a miasma. His eyes are-- _wrong_ , glowing gold in the dimming light even at a distance. 

“I sense him. He’s  _ here,”  _ growls the man in black. 

“He’s not dead after all?” comes the distorted voice of the trooper through his visored helmet.

“If he was dead, I would have  _ felt  _ it,” the man says. “As it is--” 

‘Bi scrambles back as the man abruptly lunges forward and, a molten red-bladed sword in hand, cuts apart the rock formation he’d been hiding behind. A  _ lightsaber _ , the word comes to him as he shields his face from the smoldering debris. 

“Obi-wan, you’re looking rough,” the man drawls, looming over him with his saber halfway extended towards ‘Bi.

“I--oh, that  _ is  _ my name, isn’t it?” 'Bi remarks as he gets to his feet. Obi-wan.  _ Obi-wan Kenobi _ . 

“What do you  _ mean-- _ " the man falters. "Of  _ course _ that's your name. What are you playing at?" He scowls, and Obi-wan stiffens as the man fully extends his saber at his throat. 

He remembers then holding a lightsaber once, remembers the live wire heft of holding one. A blue one, not screaming red like the one at his throat.  _ His _ lightsaber. 

Now, he thinks, would certainly be a good time to have it, as the man glares down at him with those sickly yellow eyes.

"As I only have memories of the last few months, the Obi-wan you knew is...not present, so to speak," he says.

The man huffs. " _ That's _ the game you want to play? Surely the  _ Negotiator _ can lie better than that--no, I  _ know _ you can, with all the lies you've --"

He's interrupted by a screech as Boga leaps out from cover at him. 

"Boga, don't!" With alarm, Obi-wan raises an arm as if that would prevent her from lunging at the man. 

The man twists his face into a snarl and holds his free hand out towards her, fingers curling almost like claws. With a whine, Boga collapses onto the ground next to Obi-wan, head flailing and limbs scrambling against the dirt. 

" _ Boga _ ." Obi-wan senses her pain sharply and strokes a hand over her feathered head as if that would soothe and shield her from what the man is doing to her. "Let her  _ go _ , Anakin!" 

The name just slips out. 

Pain rips through his head as a smattering of memories return to him.

_ Anakin _ . Jedi Knight. The "Hero with No Fear." His former student. His friend. His  _ brother _ . 

He recognizes nothing of the boy or man he'd once known in the man before him. 

"Anakin Skywalker was  _ weak, _ and he is  _ dead _ . I am Darth Vader," Anakin declares, and only after a few long moments, as if to prove a point, does he drop his hand. 

Boga slumps to the ground with a weak whine, and Obi-wan continues to stroke her head. 

"That was much too dangerous, my dear," he tells her. "Don't you worry about me, I'll be alright." 

"So sure of yourself, aren't you?" remarks Vader. "What was it you always lectured me about? 'Your lightsaber is your life?' Well, your lightsaber is gone, which means,  _ so is your life _ .” 

Vader raises his saber, ready to strike Obi-wan down right there.

But Obi-wan is distracted. 

He should have realized. Varactyls are remarkably loyal creatures, and they had just spent  _ months _ protecting him. They certainly aren’t going to stop now, as suddenly, trills fill the air. The  _ entire _ lounge of varactyls charges out from all different directions, having taken the time to encircle them -- to encircle  _ Vader. _

Obi-wan knows though, that Vader would have no qualms cutting every single one of them down -- and looks ready to do so, pivoting to the nearest approaching varactyl and changing the grip on his saber as if he’s about to use it as a throwing spear. 

“No!” Obi-wan shouts, and through pure instinct, gathers up the  _ something  _ that’s been guiding him _ \-- the Force _ \-- and  _ pushes _ with both hands. 

The invisible shove sends Vader flying into the air with a yelp, lightsaber slipping from his hand -- 

Though this outcome does not surprise him  _ nearly  _ as much as seeing the trooper swing his rifle like a bat at  _ just  _ the right timing to send Vader  _ off the edge of the mesa _ , Vader’s enraged roar trailing after him[3]. 

As the varactyls skid to a halt in a protective circle around him and Boga, Obi-wan gapes at the trooper, who takes a moment to look over the edge to follow Vader’s descent, before turning to Obi-wan. The trooper takes off his helmet, revealing a face identical to all the others save for a scar curving around his left eye and down the side of his face. 

“General, we should leave. I can’t say how long that will actually hold him,” the trooper says, gesturing to the gunship, where more helmetless troopers happen to peer out of the doors. 

Obi-wan squints at the trooper, taking in that distinctive scar, the left shoulder antenna, and the remnants of orange paint scratched off the armor. 

Crossing his arms, he remarks, “My memories might not be all here, but I’m  _ fairly  _ certain you shot at us.”

The trooper grimaces and brushes a hand over a surgical scar on the side of his head. Obi-wan hadn't noticed it before.

“I would never  _ willingly _ shoot you, sir,” the trooper says. “...they put chips in our heads, turned us into drones the moment the... _ Emperor _ said the right words.” 

Obi-wan relaxes a bit, sensing the truth in those words, though  _ that _ is a rather messy and likely painful subject to revisit at a more...appropriate time and setting.

“You...weren’t bluffing about the memories?” asks the trooper with a deep frown.

“Unfortunately not. They seem to be coming back though, in bits and pieces.”

“Oh, well then, Cody, at your service. I was your second before...well, before.”

_ More _ than that, he’d been a dear and trusted  _ friend _ , Obi-wan senses, before the terrible things had happened. There are things, he suspects, that can never be fixed, but their friendship will  _ not _ be one of them.

“We better get going, sir,” Cody says. 

Obi-wan makes to join him, but stops when the varactyls crowd around him. With a smile, he reaches out pat each of their heads. 

“Thank you for your help, all of you,” he tells them. “I wouldn’t have made it all this time without you.” 

They nip at his clothes and hair and bump his shoulders before edging away, and Boga bounds forward to his side, now recovered. He strokes her feathered head for a moment.

“I guess this is where we part ways then, Boga. You’ve been a wonderful friend. Do take care of yourself, all right?” 

But as he goes to join Cody then, Boga trills and follows him. He raises an eyebrow at her, but he can  _ sense  _ her devotion, her intent to continue following him wherever that may be.

“I...don’t think that’s the best idea, my dear,” he says, “Your home is  _ here _ . Your friends and family are here.” But she trills again and even begins walking to the gunship without them.

“She’s welcome to come along, sir, there’s plenty of room where we’re going,” Cody says, failing utterly to not look like he’s smirking at Obi-wan. 

“And where exactly  _ are  _ we going?” Obi-wan asks.

“To the Rebellion, of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> [1] A collective of lizards is apparently a “lounge of lizards” and since varactyls are lizard-like I went with that lol  
> [2] Obi-wan calls himself ‘Bi because that’s what it sounds like when the varactyls are specifically calling him.  
> [3] For visualization, please see [Lumi’s gif at the end of this post](https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/625543742478336000/wildcreativemastermind-gffa-i-love-each-and) with Cody using his rifle as a baseball bat.  
> Side note: I kept referring to them as vacteryls instead of varactyls, because there’s a medical syndrome called VACTERL. Alskdfjlkasj RIP me.


End file.
